


The Wrong Number Incident

by daisherz365



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 16:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4487175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisherz365/pseuds/daisherz365
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘I called the wrong number and started talking about my life and you only interrupted me after a few minutes of me revealing some pretty personal stuff and now you’re invested in my life troubles’ AU Mythea</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wrong Number Incident

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to **beesketches** on Tumblr whose birthday is tomorrow (8/3). She requested some Mythea and as for my love of AUs I decided this was a perfect one. I hope you like it.

Anthea was drunk but she couldn't care that much about it. She had the worst day in a long line of bad days as of late and she just needed to talk to someone. Her parents weren't available – long gone for years now and she needed someone to tell her that she wasn't a huge fuck up and that she could make something of herself. She really needed some reassurance.

Her best friend was next on her list and she would eagerly dish to the brunette if she picked up the phone. It was pretty late and she would be surprised if the woman hadn't begun cursing her out first thing. It would be the welcome kind of berating but all the same, she fumbled with her phone. Eyes blurry and trying to dial as quickly as possible as she slumped down on her couch.

Kicking her heels off as the call connected.

As soon as she heard a 'hello' she began spouting off.

"I'm not even sorry for calling you at this late hour but I lost my job today and that idiot guy who I had been seeing has been sleeping with some trash within his department and I really got drunk because I kind of hate myself right now."

She paused briefly to take a deep breath. "Like I think I'm pretty decent a worker and they had the gall to tell me that they had found a better qualified person to fill my position as if I was already axed from the fucking company. Then the stupid git had to make it worse…"

Before she could get into the moron who she had been dating she heard the sound of someone clearing their throat on the other sign.

"My dear, I wish to inform you that whoever you're supposed to be calling isn't me however since you're on the line I suppose I could stay on for another five minutes. Five minutes is all I can spare. I'm rather busy."

Anthea's head hit the back of her couch as she threw it back out of pure shame. She didn't even know what to say to this. She looked down at her phone. She had fucked up the last three numbers. That was not Julia's number.

She sighed, hearing the man – yes the man on the other line call out to her. "Hi…" She offered shyly once she put the phone back against her ear.

"Go into the kitchen and fix a cup of coffee." He wasn't suggesting it by his tone, he sounded like a man who was used to telling people what to do and in her state of embarrassment she decided to allow it. She got to her feet making sure not to trip over her shoes on her way there and started a pot of the gourmet coffee Julia had sent her from Russia last week when she was frequenting a decent café. She liked how strong it was – something she needed in the mornings and as of now when very drunk and trying to fight down the urge to blurt out more factoids about her life that a stranger just didn't need to know.

"I have to wait now." She continued quietly. "Sorry for…"

"Never mind that. What was your line of employment before today?"

"Temp work." She admitted. It wasn't anything extraordinary but it got her bills paid and made sure she got food in her stomach. She hadn't needed to complain as much until today. The right to do things for herself had been tossed out the window. The only good thing was that she had savings and that would help while she found work elsewhere.

She groaned, forgetting that there was someone on the line that didn't have brown hair and a cute nose. "How long?" Her mystery phone partner interrupted her for feeling sorry for herself.

"Sorry?" She echoed, unsure of what he had asked for he had startled her.

"How long were you working as a temp?"

Before she answered him she grabbed the pot of coffee off and grabbed one of her mugs from the cabinet to pour her cup. She let it sit for a few moments as she answered him. "Two and a half years, why are you asking?"

He hummed. "I've never understood the notion of temporary work."

Okay, so the guy was someone who had a stable job she imagined. She almost wanted to ask what it was that he did and why they were still on the phone. Five minutes had most certainly passed at this point. She wouldn't hang up out of curiosity.

"Whoa there it was my livelihood."

"Noted, Anthea."

Anthea? When had she told him her name? She didn't think she had.

"We will finish this in the morning. A car will be waiting for you at 11:15 sharp. Be dressed and awake by then. Have a good night, my dear."

Before she could ask why there was nothing but dial tone.

Who was that guy?

What did he want with her now that he knew personal things about her? She hoped it wasn't anything damaging.

She sipped her coffee as she pondered all of this.

Mycroft on the other hand was staring at the information that had appeared on his screen after tracing the call. Public records didn't have much besides basic intelligence (Name, birthday, education, blood type, address, etc). It was enough to go on for now. He would know more by the time she was picked up and they formally met.

He couldn't figure out why he decided that they needed to meet but he would worry about that later when he had decided what to do with her.

When 11:15 rolled around Anthea had just been putting on her shoes and double checking that she had everything that she would need for leaving the house before walking out of it. Once she was satisfied she exited the door and locked it before taking the elevator to the ground floor and moving outside that door.

Like he had said there was a car waiting for her and a man who opened the door ushering her inside. It was all very strange. She couldn't stop thinking about how one little mistake had brought her here.

She slipped into the car and blinked at a man who was sitting in front of her twirling an umbrella in his hands. He didn't look up at her until the car started moving but that gave her plenty of time to inspect him. The man was well dressed in a three piece suit and neat brown hair that was brushed back and away from his face.

"Hello, dear." That voice. It was the same man from the late night phone call.

She nodded at him. She wasn't sure what to say to him. How did you begin to speak to someone who you didn't know?

His grey eyes surveyed her in that moment and she felt utterly naked.

"About your livelihood what would you say about a permanent job?"

She balked, "Huh?"

"I'll give you a moment to catch up but do be quick about it. There's a lot to talk about."

She rolled her eyes at him. She was merely catching up to the fact that this man whoever he was was used to others being slower compared to him so much so that he talked to them in a way that could only be defined as condescending. It did sound like he was being careful with her. It must be because he didn't know what she could do.

"I'll say." She whispered. "I have questions."

"Yes. Fine." He gestured with one of his hands as the car took a sharp turn. Anthea was glad for the seatbelt.

"How did you know who I was?"

He answered quickly, "I didn't." When she just looked at him he continued with a sigh. "I make it my business to know who I'm talking to even if I don't particularly care about them in the slightest. I have no idea why you called me or how you got my number – it's as close to a national secret as one gets in my line of work."

"What's that then?"

"You could say that I work for the government."

"I could say…meaning you won't exactly tell me if that's true."

Mycroft pursed his lips at her. She was clever. That was good. He needed someone to keep up with him. He hadn't known it but he realized it then.

"No, I'm telling you it is. Let's say that you're one of a select few who knows what I do or in some small way what I am."

Anthea's head was spinning. What were the chances that this was real?

"You said you something about permanent employment?" She questioned, it was the closest thing to an even playing field that she could muster right now.

"Hm, yes. Your name is unique but it's not your real name is it?"

She smiled at him. Mycroft frowned slightly at that. "What if I said I couldn't tell you that?"

"I could find it out some way or another. Perhaps I already know it."

He was bluffing and she knew it.

"Right." She scoffed. "You can call me Anthea, Mr.…."

It was as if he realized that he had done something amiss. "Apologies, Mycroft Holmes." He outstretched his hand to hers. She carefully took it. This was all very professional in a sense.

"Well, Mycroft how about we discuss the job over lunch? I'm starving."

He quirked an eyebrow but nodded tapping his umbrella against the glass that separated the compartment. The man on the other side spoke. "Sir?"

He rattled off an address then turned back to Anthea.

"About the man you were dating…" He started. He looked awkward about this topic but he seemed doubly invested in talking about it to get it out of the way so she let him. Silently she was thanking her drunkenness for getting her in a car with a man such as Mycroft Holmes. He would help her in many ways, she could already feel it.


End file.
